


How the Tiger met the Magpie

by LookingForLoki



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Fluff, Funny, Getting Together, How Do I Tag, I APOLOGIZE, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It shows, Language Kink, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Slow Burn, mormor, most of this fic is T rated, once I think of them, smut is completely skippable, the smut has arrived
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4961152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForLoki/pseuds/LookingForLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian could never quite pinpoint the exact moment his working relationship with his boss became a romantic one, nor the moment he realized he loved the crazy git. But if asked, he could describe in near-perfect detail the major events that made up their own twisted little fairytale.</p>
<p> (AKA how everyone's favorite criminal mastermind and sniper got together)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One- First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone, it's me again. *waves awkwardly* So my friend gave me this idea, and it somehow spiraled into a multichaptered work. I don't know. 
> 
> This is me experimenting with writing in third person rather than first like my other fics; I'm not too crazy about my own work, so feedback would be appreciated as to how I did. The next few chapters are already written, I just need to type them up and post them. Never fear, I shall not leave this unfinished! =P
> 
> Thanks Sophia for the idea for this, I hate you too. :-) And my other fic loving friends, including my own Sebby: you guys rock.

Sebastian could never quite pinpoint the exact moment his working relationship with his boss became a romantic one, nor the moment he realized he loved the crazy git. But if asked, he could describe in near-perfect detail the major events that made up their own twisted little fairytale.

The first time they met (aka the first time Jim approached him) was in a quiet little pub in East London. (Don't think it was seedy; Seb does have standards)

Anyway.

Seb was just sitting at the bar with his drink, deep in thought, when someone claimed the seat beside him. He threw a disinterested glance at the stranger. And then did a double take.

The man looked very out of place in this bar. He was small and slight (but then again, Seb towered over most people at 6'3), and was wearing some fancy suit (Hello, Westwood, Sebby! Jim would cheerfully inform him later). Yet the guy sat with an air of utter ease, and his eyes...

Alarms started in Seb's mind; there was something about this guy that he recognized as dangerous, something he knew in himself.

As if sensing Seb's inner thoughts, the prick turned and smirked at him. Then he spoke.

"What's your name, then, handsome?"

Irish, Seb noted off-handedly.

"Sebastian."

At this, the stranger's eyes lit up and his smirk widened.

"Oooh, ex-Colonel Sebastian Moran, just the man I wanted to see. Can I call you Sebby?"

That earned him Seb's full attention.

"No, you can't, and how the fu-"

"Do I know your name?" the creep interrupted. "Honestly, Sebby, calm down. I know everything about you. People do commonly background check their potential hires, don't they?"

'What?' Seb thought, 'What the hell is this bloke playing at?' Aloud, he asked, "What do you want with me?"

The Irishman gave a theatrical sigh.

"Don't be boring, Sebby, I hat being bored. I've already told you what I want: I want to offer you a job. You have talents which I find useful. An impressive military background you've got, fluency in five languages, and great marksmanship. I could use someone like me, and I think you'd enjoy the work. So, what do you think?"

All the while he had been talking, he had also been slowly leaning toward Seb, who jerked back slightly upon realizing just how close the guy was. 

"And why would I want to work for you? I don't even know who you are."

"Come now, it's a good arrangement: you get a job, and I get you." the stranger rejoined, neatly sidestepping the issue of identity. 

Well, that didn't sound creepy at all.....

"Now," the bloke purred, suddenly switching tracks, "how about I buy you a drink and leave you to think about my offer?"

Surprised, Seb responded, "S-sure, why not? I will have to think this over."

"Good."

After flagging over the barman snd ordering Seb that drink, the Irishman slid from him seat and made to depart.

"Wait!" Seb yelled across to him, "how am I supposed to contact you? And what's your bloody name, anyway?"

He turned to face the sniper and looked straight into his eyes.

"I will find you. And trust me when I say," this with a chilling smile, "you already know who I am."

With that, the man resumed walking away, leaving Sebastian Moran with a drink, the chills, and a decision to make.


	2. Chapter 2- First Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His first job for Jim surprisingly didn't require him to shoot anyone. Jim wanted him along to a meeting with a recalcitrant client, as back-up in case things got "a wee bit messy". (That phrase would be a tremendous understatement when applied to some of their later jobs).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, guys. I'm so sorry I didn't update last week, school and work have been kicking my behind =P
> 
> I'm home sick today, so I figured I'd type up a few chapters. So, here's the second chapter for anyone still reading my ramblings!

Most people would have run screaming from Jim after an encounter like that. But not Sebastian. Truth was, Seb needed a job. And more importantly: like his "good" counterpart, John Watson, he missed the excitement and the adrenaline of the battlefield. But unlike the good doctor, he didn't heal others; he killed them. 

So when the first text arrived, asking if he'd made his decision, he accepted.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

His first job for Jim surprisingly didn't require him to shoot anyone. Jim wanted him along to a meeting with a recalcitrant client, as back-up in case things got "a wee bit messy". (That phrase would be a tremendous understatement when applied to some of their later jobs).

Seb arrived at the location texted to him, some sort of office, to find the creepy Irishman already waiting for him.

"There you are, Sebby. I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Sorry, Boss," Seb replied automatically, more concerned with taking in as much information as possible on their surroundings, as well as on the boss himself, than with acting contrite.

Said boss just smirked at him, as if amused by his efforts.

"Ooh, you're a smart Sebby, aren't you? I think I might actually come to like you."

"Yeah, thanks Boss," Seb responded. "So, what do you want me to do here?"

"At the moment? Nothing. Stand back, keep your mouth shut, and continue to be your lovely intimidating self. I'll take care of the rest." 

A few moments later, a man walked through the door, ostensibly the owner of the office. He seemed to be a shady business type, and froze upon seeing the pair waiting for him.

"Why hello there, Mr. Danvers," Seb's boss greeted.

"Wh-wh-what are you doing here? " Danvers stammered out. "And who's he?" (meaning Seb)

The Irishman tutted disapprovingly. 

"That's not a polite way to speak to guests, now, is it Danvers? As for why we're here, we-e-ell, the thing is, you requested my help with that problem of yours, but now I hear you're refusing to pay for the consultation?"

Danvers paled at his tone. (Not that Seb blamed him, Jim sometimes terrifies him too).

"I'm not- not refusing to pay, I just need a little more time, my-"

The boss held up a hand.

"No, I don't want to hear any excuses. You have two days, understand?" His normal sing-song tone darkened. "I trust you know what will happen if you disappoint me?"

"Y-yes, yes, Mr. Moriarty."

Moriarty smiled.

"Good. Come along, Sebby."

Seb followed automatically, his attention focused on one thought.

Moriarty.

Seb knew his new boss was a criminal (obviously), but he hadn't been expecting that. He'd heard stories about Moriarty, hell, almost everyone involved in London's criminal underground had. The man was a nightmare, brilliant but highly unstable, psychopathic said some, who went by the title 'consulting criminal'. He was the faceless bogeyman of the crime world.

Well, he indeed had a face. And apparently he was now Seb's crazy little Irish boss.

"F***," Seb thought.

"Coming, Sebastian?" Moriarty inquired, turned back slightly towards him with an eyebrow raised.

At this point, Sebastian had two options. He could try and disappear, because there was no way that this would end well, at all. Or, he could accept the inevitable and continue to follow this fascinating individual, come what may (who is he kidding, probably bloodshed and death).

Well. Seb had never been one for giving up on a challenge. It's both a virtue and a flaw.

"Right here, boss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Silly Seb, he has no idea how crazy his life is going to get now. XP
> 
> Let me know what you think about the newest chapter, and I will probably post another today so keep an eye out! As always, kudos and comments are chicken soup for my tired soul =)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was actually over a year of working for him before Seb found out Moriarty's first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Sorry I've been trash at updating, college applications have been kicking my butt. :( but by mid November everything will be a whole lot calmer, so updates will be more regular.
> 
> Sorry the summary sucks, I'm sick and can't think of anything better.

And so it went. True to his word (and wasn't that ironic), Moriarty sent Seb on hits more than anything else. Which was more than fine with him; his boss was still as effing crazy as ever. The rumors about his instability were not greatly exaggerated. Except... Seb sometimes thought that maybe they were.

Maybe it was because for some bizarre reason Seb liked his boss or because he knew his moods better than others did, but he never quite saw the insane character others described. Creepy, yes. Mercurial, yes. Sociopathic? Hell yes. But even at his most crazy, Jim had a calculating air about him, as if trying to determine how best to elicit the response he desired. "Life's just a game, Sebby," he'd said once. And he certainly treated it as such.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was actually over a year of working for him before Seb found out Moriarty's first name.

It wasn't for lack of trying or anything; his boss just wouldn't share anything personal. Not that Seb would readily believe anything he was told. He was in the army, mind. But it would have been nice to know something about the criminal mastermind he'd somehow become fond of.

Anyway.

This particular incident was one of the times when a job went badly. The potential client had foolishly dismissed Moriarty as a real threat and believed he could dictate terms. Obviously, the guy and his goons were idiots, and things ended up pretty bloody. Needless to say, Seb killed the fuckers who went after his boss. But said fuckers had managed to get in a few hits of their own...

"Shit," Seb hissed. His face was bloody, he'd broken a couple of ribs, and was pretty sure that someone had shot him in the leg. Or something. Whatever it was, it hurt like hell, but all in all the whole situation could have been worse.

Moriarty sauntered over to where Seb was standing, and surveyed his sniper critically.

"Well, aren't you looking a bit battered." Ignoring Seb's snort, he continued, "Come on then, we'd best get you patched up."

Seb wisely decided to stumble after him.

"Where at, boss? Not a hospital?"

He received a (totally unwarranted) scathing look.

"Of course not, Sebastian, don't be stupid. No, where we're going is a fair bit closer."

Seb growled, not in the mood to deal with his boss's games.

"Well bloody WHERE, then?"

"My flat."

"All right... wait, your WHAT?"

"My flat, I said. Come along, Sebby, before I change my mind and leave you here to die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it! I know this chapter was short, but all the rest will be longer.
> 
> There will be smut in a later chapter ( my friends force-encouraged me to do it). Should I add it here or as a separate one shot?
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are wonderful!


	4. Chapter 4-- First Name Basis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five minutes later, Seb was in the flat of one of the most dangerous men in England.
> 
> It was a pretty nice flat, all things considered. Not sinister at all at first glance. (In retrospect, Seb wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting; a lair, maybe?) But knowing his boss, Seb really wouldn't have been surprised to find a makeshift dungeon, complete with bones of past victims, in one of the other rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I'm still alive. Ish! *waves excitedly*
> 
> So here's the next chapter of the story. I know I've been horrible with updating, feel free to beat me with wet noodles.
> 
> If you have any comments or prompts, feel free to message me here or at my shiny new Tumblr theocddetective. Both are super appreciated!!!! =]

Five minutes later, Seb was in the flat of one of the most dangerous men in England.

 

It was a pretty nice flat, all things considered. Not sinister at all at first glance. (In retrospect, Seb wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting; a lair, maybe?) But knowing his boss, Seb really wouldn't have been surprised to find a makeshift dungeon, complete with bones of past victims, in one of the other rooms.

"Sit, Sebby, while I get some things. Don't touch anything, and don't expect this kind of treatment every time you get hurt; I'm not your bloody nursemaid."

Seb then tried to picture his boss as Florence Nightengale, and failed miserably. Judging by Moriarty's glare and muttered cursing, he knew what had his sniper so amused.

While the consulting criminal was out of the room, Sebastian took the opportunity to look around a bit (hey, he'd only been warned off touching anything). Fist thing he noticed was the lack of pictures or any other obviously personal belongings. The whole place, while well-furnished, seemed completely devoid of any traces of its owner's personality. Which, yeah, he understood as necessary for a safehouse, but it was thoroughly unnerving just the same.

Said owner returned bearing a cloth and a first aid kit. The rag he threw at Seb and ordered, "Here, wipe your face off, you're leaving blood everywhere. And show me that leg of yours, I'll take a look at it in the meantime." 

Seb complied, and it was as he was moving over that he decided to ask a question he'd been mulling over for some time. (He would later blame the blood loss for loosening his tongue).

"Hey, boss?"

"Hm?"

"What's your name?"

"Moriarty, Sebastian, you know that. You didn't happen to hit your head, did you?"

"No, I didn't. And I meant your first name. What is it?"

Moriarty froze and looked up to stare at Seb.

"Why?"

Seb raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Nothing bad, I swear. Just curious, I guess. I've been working for you for a while now, and I realized that I still didn't know it. And I figured that bleeding on your furniture is a first name basis kinda thing."

The Irishman scowled at him darkly, but after a moment returned his attention to Seb's leg wound. Disappointed, Seb had leaned back and closed his eyes, when.

"Jim."

"What now?"

The other man rolled his eyes, smirk in place.

"My name, Sebastian. It's Jim. Well, James actually, but if you attempt to call me James or, God forbid, Jimmy, I will end you in the most painful way possible. Understood?"

Huh. Seb hadn't really expected to get an answer, so he almost didn't believe it. Except the threats, those made it believable.

"All right. So. Jim Moriarty-- ow!"

Seb hissed as Mo-Jim poked at his wound with antiseptic with a little more force than necessary.

"Stop fussing, Sebastian, it was a graze. There's hardly any blood. And yes, that is my name. What were you expecting it to be, Lucifer?"

"Honestly? I wasn't sure." Jim snorted. "But it suits you. It's very... Irish."

Jim stared at him in utter disbelief.

"No, really? I wonder why that is. Maybe it's because I'm from bloody Ireland?"

Seb gave him a lopsided grin, and after a moment Jim began to laugh. 

"Oh Sebby, I was right. I do like you."

"Thanks Boss. I like you too."

"Shut up." But it was said almost fondly. Jim suddenly snapped back into business mode, and patted Seb's knee. "Anyway, you're all fixed up, so get going now. I have people to threaten, empires to collapse, all that kind of fun. And I have a job for you tomorrow, so--".

Seb had noticed that the Irish nutter had been holding himself oddly and reached out to touch his arm, only for his fingers to come away bloody.

"What the hell, Jim? You didn't say you'd gotten hurt as well!"

"That's because its nothing, Sebastian. It's no matter.

" The hell it isn't! Come here, you bloody idiot."

Jim bared his teeth. 

"Remember your place, Sebby."

Seb sighed.

"Fine, boss. I was just trying to help you out."

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Stared until Jim's demeanor suddenly changed and he motioned for Seb to help with his arm.

"What's really irritating about this whole affair is that those bastards ruined my suit," he complained. "I will never be able to get the blood out."

Seb just sat there and prayed for the strength to deal with this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Definitely leave kudos or comments, they are love!
> 
> As you can see, there are going to be at least ten chapters to this thing. As in, I'm in the middle of Chapter 10 now, and there will most definitely be more chapters to come, some featuring the other main characters of Sherlock!


	5. First.....Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first "date" wasn't really a date, per se, but it was the start of something...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's me again *waves excitedly* I know it has been forever since I last posted, and I'm really really sorry about that. Life has been crazy recently. But, here's the latest chapter posted!
> 
> As always, thanks to my crew, especially Queen Gaby, Matty, and Sebby, for proofreading, cheerleading, and generally being crazy people XD. And seriously, respect for the people who manage to write multichapter giants, it is so much harder than I thought.

Their first "date" wasn't really a date, per se, but it was the start of something...

It was two weeks after the botched meeting. Nothing much has changed between the two of them since: Moriarty continued to order Seb about, and Seb continued to be the sarcastic arsehole he'd always been.

Well, that and the small matter of Seb developing a wee bit of a crush on his boss.

 

Yep.

Seb didn't need anyone to tell him all of the reasons why this could only end spectacularly badly, he was well aware, thank you very much. And it wasn't as if he had wanted to like his sociopathic nightmare of an employer; it just happened. Jim's favorite hobby might be murder and he was mercurial as fuck, but he was also completely brilliant. Sure, encounters with the feared 'consulting criminal' often left others with serious doubts as to his sanity, but Seb saw that under the theatrics was a devious and all-too-sane mind. And it served both to command his respect and attract his interest.

(It also didn't hurt that Jim was very easy on the eyes. And that damned Irish lilt...)

Of course, Sebastian would never tell Jim any of this. Ever. He enjoyed living far too much to risk it.

Anyway.

On this day, Seb was set up with his rifle on top of a building. (No, you don't get to know which building, it's classified). There was an individual that needing terminating across the way, but it would take a while for him to move into Seb's best line of sight. So, he'd set everything up and hunkered down to wait it out. It was about an hour later, when.....

"Hellooo, Sebby!"

"What the fuck!"

Jim just grinned at him, amused at his surprise.

"Hullo."

"How the fuck did you get up here? Without me noticing? Damn, I could have shot you!"

A sigh.

"Promises, promises. Well, since it seems we're skipping the pleasantries today, I just wanted to swing by, that's why I'm here. I like to occasionally check up on my people at work, and I was bored, sooo."

"Right, of course, silly me. But didn't you have that meeting with those tong people?"

At this point Seb noticed that his boss had forgone his usual suit in favor of jeans and a tee. Which shouldn't have been hot, but oh well.

"Meh. They were irritating me. But you know better than to do that, don't you, Sebby?"

"'Course not, boss, I wouldn't dream of it. I see no point in giving you a reason to exercise your already active homicidal urges."

His response drew a sharp grin from the Irishman.

"Oh Seb, how I appreciate your fearlessness in being snarky at me. So, ex-Colonel Sebastian Samuel Moran, formerly of HR Majesty's army and now in my employ: tell me about yourself."

Seb took his eyes off the (still immobile) target to stare incredulously at Jim.

"Okay, one, I find it really creepy when you do that; how much about me did you research before you hired me? And you already know everything, so why bother to ask?"

Jim blinked innocently. (Lies, Seb thought. If Jim was innocent, then Seb was the pope. And he isn't religious).

"Isn't idle, useless conversation what normal people do?"

At Seb's look, he added, "Calm down, Sebastian. And the word you're looking for is 'sociopath', not 'psychopath'. I should know, I've been called both often enough."

Not sure what to say (because he really couldn't disagree with the 'sociopath' assessment), Seb busied himself with his weapon, and was relieved to find the target nearing position, as it meant he wouldn't have to maintain eye contact with his boss any longer.

As he watched and waited, he tried to formulate some answer for Jim.

"There's not much to tell about my life, Boss. Came from a long line of military men."

"Very pukka sahib, I'm sure," Jim snarked, affecting a dreadful British accent. Seb mock-glared at him before continuing.

"Good school education, and then I joined the army. I was good at it, very good," he said with no little pride.

"Being good at killing people is definitely a useful skill, in my opinion. Well, useful to me."

Seb laughed.

"I know it is, that's why you hired me. So, what about you, Boss?"

Jim's eyes widened minutely, but the collected, coolly amused façade returned almost at once.

"My life, you mean?" At the sniper's nod, Jim smirked.

"Not a chance, Moran."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Seb stared for a moment, sighed, then returned his attention to his weapon. Enigmatic boss or no, he had a job to do.

*Bang*.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Seb's initials are SS, no I am not sorry. (Well, maybe a little).
> 
> So, let me know what you think! I really don't like my own writing 90% of the time, so hearing other people's opinions help. Kudos and comments mean a lot!!! <3
> 
> and as always, prompts are welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 Battersea Rise, SW11 1ED. Come immediately. Don't disappoint me, Sebby. -JM
> 
> Not wanting to upset his boss (that was always a bad idea), Seb rushed to the address sent him. Only to end up a very confused sniper.
> 
>  
> 
> In which questions are asked, and the boys have their first, sort of real date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! This is the next chapter of the story. I wrote it quite a bit ago, and if I messed up British street addresses, I apologize (I'm not British, does that excuse me??).
> 
> Anyway, there are several more chapters to this tale, and a sequel is being written for Joining the Family (?), so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> Enjoy, and remember, comments and kudos make my day! :)

2 Battersea Rise, SW11 1ED. Come immediately. Don't disappoint me, Sebby. -JM

Not wanting to upset his boss (that was always a bad idea), Seb rushed to the address sent him. Only to end up a very confused sniper.

It was...a restaurant. And not a seedy, 'criminal centre' type either, a nice one. With regular people eating there, even.

Seb couldn't for the life of him figure out why Jim had called him there.

He checked his mobile again, just in case: nope, still the right place. Wary, he entered the establishment.

"Good evening, sir. How may I help you?" the young woman at the front greeted him cheerfully.

"Um..."

"Oh, you wouldn't happen to be Mr. Moran, would you?"

"Ye-yes, that's me. But how-"

"Lovely! Right this way, sir, your table is all ready. And I was told that your collegue phoned to say he would be a bit late tonight."

"Collegue?" Seb repeated intelligently.

"Yes, sir. Professor James?"

"Oh, of course. Thank you, miss," he replied, while thinking, I'm gonna kill Jim, bloody wanker never tells me anything.

Sitting down (and thanking The Powers That Be that he hadn't brought his rifle and co. with him this time. Not that he didn't have weapons on him, hell no), Seb waited. And waited.

And waited.

An hour passed, in which Seb had ordered a drink to spite his tardy boss, before...

"Hello there, Sebby. Did you miss me?"

Jim slid into the seat opposite Seb, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Desperately, Boss, you know how it is. Since when are you a professor? And was the lateness a manipulation thing, or just your customary grand entrance?"

Jim's smile slipped into a smirk.

"Oh, Sebby, how lucky you are that I like you. If anyone else tried what you do on a regular basis, I'd have their skin for their impudence."

Seb paused, trying to gauge if Jim was crazy enough to actually do something like that to someone. He probably was.

"I thought you enjoyed my snark and sass. I'll bet my sparkling personality was what convinced you to hire me, wasn't it?"

"As if. Really, Sebby. I do appreciate the snark, but I can't figure out why you aren't scared."

Huh?

"Scared of what, exactly?"

"Me."

Jim said it simply, as if it was just another fact of life (which, to be fair, it sorta is. Jim can be downright terrifying when he wants to be. Which is often). Seb opened his mouth to protest, but his boss silenced him with a look and continued.

"No, you aren't afraid of me, like eveyone else is. You should be; when people call me a monster, inhuman, they aren't far off. But you don't fear me, and I want to know why. You aren't too stupid--"

"Ta, Mr. Moriarty," Seb muttered sarcastically.

"Shut up, Sebastian. I've just told you I don't think that, so take it as the compliment it is. Anyway, you don't seem overly keen on dying, either. If anything, you're in this for the adrenaline rush. Third, you aren't oblivious as to what I do, who I am. You enjoy being in my employ. Lastly, it could be that you've met someone more dangerous at some point, and by comparison I don't seem a threat. But honestly? I reaaally doubt that one. So, I'll ask. Why?"

It was eerie when Jim pulled out his serious side, his business side, and deigned to reveal a glimpse at how his mind worked. It was a definite contrast to the mercurial, almost manic Moriarty persona he used with basically everyone else. Meeting with Moriarty convinced eveyone that he was a complete psychopath, but it was times like these that reminded Seb of just how sane and calculating Jim actually was.

He decided the truth would likely be best in this case.

"Maybe I just like you, Jimmy, ever consider that?"

That response was obviously unexpected: Jim blinked and didn't stab Seb for using the nickname.

"What the hell are you talking about? Be serious, Sebastian."

"What, I can't like the guy I work for?"

"No. I inspire a lot of things, Seb. Fear, yes. Anger, undoubtably. Grudging respect, yeah. But not affection. People don't 'like' me, Seb, and you don't either. At least, you shouldn't, if you have the least bit of sense."

Never let it be said that Sebastian Moran ever just listened obediently to those in positions of authority.

"Sorry to disappoint ya, Boss, but I do. You may be completely crazy and fucking terrifying, but you're also brilliant. Keeps things interesting, I suppose."

"Hm."

Despite the short answer, Jim looked almost pleased. It made Seb wonder exactly where he had gotten the idea that he was more monster than man in the first place.

Then it was as if a switch had been flipped. Jim's demeanor suddenly went from contemplative to cheerful (almost never a good sign).

"Well, well, Sebby, look at us being all social. It's all so much like what normal people do. Why, this almost feels like a date!"

It was no small feat for Seb to avoid choking on his drink after that comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! Aren't the boys so cute? XD. Fun fact, there is a restaurant at that address, its called the Humble Grape. And I snuck an Angel reference in here, so kudos if you can spot it :P 
> 
> As always, feel free to prompt me here or come hang out/pester me at my Tumblr, theocddetective. Kudos and comments are love, my friends!


	7. A Study in Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA a texting interlude
> 
> (it's cute, I promise. Just try it!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, girls, and man-shaped beings! This chapter was quite honestly just so much fun to write. Hopefully that shines through. =)
> 
> Sorry for not posting for so long, uni prep and school have been killing me. At least I've gotten into my #1 choice, yay! =P
> 
> As always, let me know what I've done right or wrong, and kudos are very appreciated!

_What are you up to, Sebby? –JM_

_The same as before, Boss, still up here_

_waiting to shoot someone –SM_

_And what’s with the initials?_

_You’re the only one who texts me. I_

_know it’s you –SM_

_I like to. Deal with it. –JM_

_And I’m boreddddd. Talk to me –JM_

_Really, Jim? I’m kinda busy right now,_

_what with the job and all, remember? –SM_

_Sebbbbbbyyyyyyy –JM_

_No, Jim –SM_

_Come onnn, Tiger, come out and play >:/ --JM_

_…the hell? Emoticons? And did you just_

_call me ‘Tiger’? –SM_

_Yes. –JM_

_That’s what I thought –SM_

_….. –SM_

_Just one question though –SM_

_Why? –SM_

_Why what? Why emoticons, or_

_why ‘Tiger’? –JM_

_The latter. You knew which one, you prat –SM_

 

_Watch it, Sebby. Just because I haven’t replaced you_

_yet doesn’t mean I can’t. –JM_

_And I wanted to, that’s why. Good enough answer_

_for you? –JM_

_Not really, no. –SM_

 

_You spent time in India during your army days, as did_

_most of the Moran men back when it was still part of_

_the Empire, I’m sure. I thought ‘Tiger’ fit you: graceful,_

_deadly predator –JM_

_Thanks, boss. That’s probably the sweetest_

_thing anyone’s ever said to me –SM_

 

_Ugh, shut up –JM_

_All this sentiment is making me ill –JM_

_Don’t be like that, Jimmy =P –SM_

_Don’t. Even. THINK. About. It –JM_

_Okay, okay, got it, Jim –SM_

_But I do like ‘Tiger”. Just wasn’t_

_expecting a pet name, is all –SM_

 

_Why not? –JM_

_Ummm, Jim, you do realize I’m not_

_ACTUALLY your pet, right? –SM_

_Right? –SM_

_Don’t be silly, Sebby. –JM_

_Of course you are –JM_

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

 

_Do we have any more tea left in the flat? –JM_

_How would I know? It’s your bloody flat –SM_

 

_Yeah, but you are always here too, drinking_

_MY tea –JM_

_I’m thinking of charging you rent –JM_

_Ha bloody ha. Fine, I’ll check and pick up some more –SM_

_Where are you now, anyway? –SM_

_At home ;) –JM_

_ >: [--SM             _

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Hey, Chinese or Indian tonight? –SM_

_And don’t say you aren’t hungry. –SM_

 

_Eating is boringggg, Sebby –JM_

_It’s also necessary to live, genius. When was the_

_last time you ate? -SM_

_…._

_…._

_…._

_So help me God, Jim I don’t know your middle name_

_Moriarty… --SM_

 

_FINE, Tiger. Indian, then. >:/ -JM_

_And no, I’m not telling you my middle name. –JM_

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Is Jim your real name? -SM_

_No –JM_

_It’s James –JM_

_Ha bloody ha. Very funny –SM_

_=] –JM_

_Also not what I meant. –SM_

_I meant is James Moriarty your real name? -SM_

_Why? –JM_

_Just curious –SM_

_Is Sebby Moran_ your _real name? –JM_

_No. It’s Sebastian. –SM_

_But you know that already. –SM_

_You don’t have to answer if you don’t want_

_to. –SM_

_I know that –JM_

_It depends on what you mean by_

_“real”. I use many names, all of which_

_could be considered my “real name”. –JM_

_But is James Moriarty my birth name?_

_Yes, it is. –JM_

_Make of that what you will. Happy,_

_Sebby? –JM_

_I think it suits you. –SM_

_In a good way. –SM_

_Hey, so technically I could call you_

_Jaimie... –SM_

 

_NO –JM_

_ABSOLUTELY NOT –JM_

_I will NOT hesitate to stab you, Sebby, should_

_you attempt it, you are aware of that? –JM_

_Yes, sir –SM_

_Good. –JM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Feel free to comment or kudos! 
> 
> It is totally my headcanon that Jim frequently uses emojis when texting with Seb. Because why not. 
> 
> I am theocddetective on Tumblr, so drop by and say hi! or yell at me, either one works =P


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jim is a drama queen, as per usual, and Seb is most royally pissed off.
> 
> AKA, Jim catches the dreaded things known as "feelings", and reacts just about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I can't believe it's been a month since I last updated. Life has been kicking my arse recently, I honestly have no clue where the time went.
> 
> But here's a new chapter! Never fear, I have a bunch of the next ones written, it's just a pain typing them up. 
> 
> So, enjoy, I guess!
> 
> (Quick note, prompts, comments, insults can be sent to my main blog if you want, but I am accepting prompts at the side blog my friend and I are running, primeministerofpuns on Tumblr. It can be from any Fandom, and either she or I will whip something up! If you want me specifically though, address it to Key XD)

   As time went on, things between Seb and his boss progressed. Jim was always texting him (although at least 25% of those messages were threats), Seb spent more time at Jim's flat than Jim did, practically, (though really not surprising, seeing as Seb's place is a shithole), and they had been on a few more "dates" (air quotes completely warranted). Nothing was ever or could ever be defined as normal, what with the two of them involved, but it was a good relationship, so Seb was content.

 

   But apparently something had his employer-in-crime less than pleased.

 

   A few weeks previous, Jim had suddenly done a 180 and ceased with the endless texting, and if Seb didn't know better, he'd accuse the Irishman of avoiding him. The abrupt change in behavior was driving Seb crazy, mostly because such a switch usually signified doom for someone. (And if he was pretty pissed about being ignored by Jim, well, that was just an extra reason). Unfortunately, Jim could be an elusive little blighter when he wanted to be, so Seb hadn't had the chance to yell at him in person.

 

   At this rate, Seb was going to kill the fucker when he finally got his hands on him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

  He got his chance a few nights later at their Jim's flat. The day's assignment hadn't gone quite to plan, meaning that Seb came out of it way bloodier and angrier than anticipated. The spare details of his boss's text had left him unprepared for the reception he got, leaving him at the end of the day pissed off, in pain, and tired as hell. None of which were helped when he realized he'd left most of his emergency kit at Jim's, and he didn't think he could get any aid supplies without being asked questions, with him looking the way he did. (Not that he didn't seriously consider going anywhere else, risk of arrest or no). At least the flat would be empty, he reasoned, considering that Jim was rarely at home, and never at that hour.

 

  He was, therefore, quite understandably surprised to find the criminal mastermind himself sitting at the kitchen table.

 

   To his credit, Jim seemed as surprised at seeing Seb as Seb was at seeing him. And as he took in the stiif way his pet sniper was holding himself, what looked like concern flashed across his face. Unfortunately, none of that concern came through as he asked, "What's new, Tiger? Did the kitty get scratched?"

 

   Seb merely growled at him.

 

  "Shut up, James. I'm not in the mood for your games tonight."

 

  "What the hell are you on about? I was asking how you were, you wanker."

 

  Huffing out an incredulous laugh, Seb replied, "Yeah, like you care. That's why you've been shutting me out recently too, right?"

 

  Jim went still.

 

"And what if I have been, then?" he queried, coolly, quietly. "It's my decisions. You work for me, remember?"

 

  "Give it a rest, Jim. You've been freezing me out for fucking weeks, and sending me on fucked up missions. It's like you want me dead!"

 

  (Seb was aware that his voice was getting louder with every sentence, but quite frankly he didn't give a shit. Judging by Jim raising his to match, he didn't either.)

 

  "Sebastian, if I wanted you dead, I would have FUCKING DONE IT MYSELF!"

 

  "THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU DONE IT ALREADY?"

 

  "MAYBE BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO. MAYBE BECAUSE I BLOODY LIKE YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

 

   That.... wasn't what Seb had been expecting, so he wasn't sure how to respond at first. But he realized he had to, quickly, and in a way that didn't spook Jim. He lowered his voice, knowing Jim would do so as well, and spoke carefully. 

 

   "Why is that such a problem for you?"

 

   "Because I don't like people, Sebastian. Sentiment is useless, a mere chemical defect. The only interest I have in people regards their use as pawns in the greater game. But you just had to come along and upset that, didn't you? I don't do feelings."

 

   As Jim paused in his (rather impressive) rant to take a breath, Seb put in simply, "Bullshit."

 

   The Irishman's face became a curious mixture of shocked and affronted. 

 

   "Excuse me, Sebby?"

 

  "You heard me. Bull. Shit. I'm almost certain you aren't a robot, Jim, you have feelings. Dark and twisted, I'm sure, but still there. You're a sociopath, not a psychopath, remember? And that may bother you but that's how this all works. You're gonna have to do better than this to get rid of me, Jimmy."

 

   He didn't answer immediately object to the nickname, which was worrisome, as it meant he was either seriously considering Seb's words or contemplating the slowest and most painful way to kill him. Jim finally opened his mouth, most probably to continue arguing, so Seb did what any sane person would do.

 

   He kissed his stupid, homicidal genius of a boss.

 

   ....

 

   .....

 

   ....

 

   Okay, okay, so maybe it wasn't quite a sane or even reasonable thing to do...

 

   Alright, fine, it was downright suicidal. But the way Seb saw it, he was most likely a dead man walking at this point; he might as well get a kiss out of the whole mess.

 

   And it wasn't a bad kiss, by any stretch; not the best, but far from the worst. He was surprised that Jim's lips weren't as cold as he'd expected. (Probably because he wasn't actually cold blooded. He just acted like it). It was supposed to be a quick kiss at that, in order to minimize the threat of immediate severe bodily harm to his person by an enraged Moriarty. But Seb was prevented from pulling back by Jim grabbing his coat and yanking him closer. Which was perfectly fine with him, albeit unexpected.

 

   They pulled apart after what fet like a long time but was in reality only a few minutes. The silence was broken as Jim slowly licked his lips and spoke quietly. 

 

   "Well, my silly Sebby, I'm glad we've gotten that sorted. And you are extremely lucky I am fond of you, as I would skin anyone that ever attempted to do what you just did."

 

   "Mhmm."

 

   Seb sighed in appreciation as Jim kissed him again. Unfortunately, his body did not share the sentiment, and his recent injuries made themselves felt. At Seb's pained hiss, Jim leaned back and ran a critical eye over him, turning to lead the way to the flat's nearest loo. 

 

   "Come on then, Tiger, we'd best get you all fixed up then. I dislike cleaning blood off the floor unless I am the one who put it there."

 

   Seb grinned, hearing the undercurrent of fondness in the complaint, and began following his busily bitching boss/boyfriend. 

 

   "Ta, Jim."

 

  

 

 

 

 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Seb, having to deal with that maybe-a-robot boyfriend of yours... :P. (Speaking of robots, is anyone else here freaking out over the latest OMGCP update?? If you aren't, go check out Zimbits, ASAP. TRUST ME ON THIS)
> 
> I won't be around too much this weekend, as I'll be at a convention, but feel free to sent comments and prompts and I will respond as soon as I get back!!
> 
> As always, feedback is love!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Seb and Jim slept together was an experience (though this should come as no surprise, given the two). Seb considered it to have gone well, and as they continued to have sex, he surmised that Jim felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey anyone out there! I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long, life has been flipping crazy. My tablet reset and erased all my typed chapters, and for some reason I couldn't get myself motivated to retype this chapter. The cringe is real, y'all.
> 
> Thank you, everyone who subscribed and everyone reading. Thanks for your patience, I know I'm lame XD
> 
> Here's some sexy times for your troubles. Even though it's not the best. Take pity on the asexual writing smut for the first time, will ya?

The first time Seb and Jim slept together was an experience (though this should come as no surprise, given the two). Seb considered it to have gone well, and as they continued to have sex, he surmised that Jim felt the same. 

It had been one of those days when Seb didn't have anyone to shoot. Or rather, he did, but Jim wouldnt let him because his leg was all kinds of fucked up from the last job and Jim didn't want him coming back to the flat "all bloodied up and pissy". So he hung around and kept busy, mostly by cleaning his guns and half-heartedly listening to the news on the telly. The great consulting criminal himself had disappeared into his office/lair early in the day, cheerfully proclaiming that he had "paperwork to complete and assassinations to arrange", so Seb hadn't seen him since the morning.

Night eventually fell, as it invariably does, and darkness surrounded the flat. Seb was deep in thought on the sofa, reassembling his last weapon, only pausing when he heard the quiet footsteps and heavy sigh that heralded his boyfriend's return to the outside world.

"Sebbbyyyy," came the familiar sing-song. "I'm bored."

"Yeah, Jimmy?"

Seb barely had time to set his gun aside before he found his lap suddenly occupied by a snuggly consulting criminal, which was followed by a pair of warm lips on his neck.

"I'm tired of working," Jim proclaimed, sighing theatrically and winding his arms around his sniper's neck. "I want to do something... else now.

"Yeah, Boss? You got anything specific in mind?" Seb smirked into the resulting kiss.

"Ah, Sebastian," Jim tilted Seb's chin upward. "You know me sooo well.,"

After a few minutes of leisurely making out, Jim extricated himself from Seb's hold, much to Seb's displeasure.

"No, Tiger, don't pout. I just figured that the bedroom would be a much more comfortable place to continue these activities.

Seb, of course, swallowed hard at the images that that image conjured up, and nodded his agreement. He hadn't been expecting his skinny little boss to grab his hand and haul him bodily upward, but evidently he was a lot stronger than he looked (which, admittedly, wouldn't have been that difficult to accomplish).

By some miracle, they eventually made it to the bedroom, the progress to which had been impeded by both of them stopping frequently to steal kisses along the way. Seb found that his clothes were much easier to shed than his partner's, so he lay back on the bed and watched his Magpie strip. 

Jim had never been much for dressing down, so Seb could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd ever seen him in anything but a suit. Suffice it to say, he was very eager to see what lay beneath the Westwood.

Seb himself had no problem with being on display. He knew, without being vain, that he was in shape and physically attractive. The only thing that might be a turn-off were the scars that littered his body; he had the usual marks of an adventurous childhood, along with the deeper, uglier scars from his time in Afghanistan and in Jim's employ.

He shouldn't have been so surprised to see that Jim had his own scars.

The man was pale in the way only the Irish can be (must have been due to the rain, Seb thought idly), as well as worryingly thin, but Seb knew all of that already. What he hadn't known was that Jim too was marked up, though his his seemed to be much older than most of Seb's. It was on the tip of Seb's tongue to ask where he'd gotten them, until he realized that a personal question like that would put Jim on the defensive, and a defensive Jim was a dangerous Jim. Resolving to get the stories later, he allowed his eyes to resume roaming over the rest of his partner's body. Said partner arched a brow at him.

"See something you like, Sebby?"

Seb smirked back at him.

"And if I do?"

"Hmm," the Irishman purred, "I'll have to think about that."

Seb groaned softly.

"Have I ever mentioned how sexy I find your accent, Jimmy?"

Jim stopped and stared, surprise and amusement showing on his face. Then he grinned.

"No, ye hadn't, but do ye really, Tiger?"

And damn him if he hadn't thickened his brogue on purpose right there.

"Get up here, you arse." Seb growled as he proceeded to "help" him by grabbing his upper arms and yanking him forward.

"Now, now, Sebby. Is that any way to treat the man who is about to fuck you until you don't remember your name?"

And, well. There went the very last of Seb's still-functioning brain cells.

He managed to find enough moisture in his mouth to swallow and rasp out, "Yeah? And who decided that that was how this was gonna go?"

"I did. Silly Sebby."

Now, Seb had absolutely no problem with this plan, none at all. But if Jim thought he would simply submit to him, without a fight, then he didn't know Seb very well.

"Hmm," and with that he flipped them over, pinning the smaller man underneath him. However, rather than angry, Jim looked pleased, as if this was exactly the response he had been aiming for.

"There we are, Tiger does have claws after all. I hope he doesn't bite."

It was Seb's turn to smile.

"Only if you ask nicely, Boss."

"Then by all means go ahead."

Interesting.

"I should have known, you- mhm- kinky bastard."

"Tiger, Tiger, Tiger, you haven't seen anything yet. Oh, do that again."

Eventually Jim ended back up back on top, and, well, if he wanted it that way, who was Seb to refuse?

It was a bit strange at first, but then it had been a long while since Seb had last bottomed. Actually, it'd been forever and a day since he'd last had any sort of sex. Life as Jim's favourite minion hadn't exactly given him much time to form any sort of personal relationships, even a purely physical one. And then he'd fallen arse over tits for his evil genius , which killed any chance left of him getting laid on the regular. Or so Seb had thought. 

"Ifreann na fola," Jim swore as he pushed in. At least, Seb assumed it was a swear, as it wasn't in a language he recognized.  
"W-what was that?"

"Dúirt mé, ifreann fuílteacha, Tiger," Jim repeated more forcefully.

"English, Jimmy love."

Jim paused to stare at Seb incredulously.

"Really, Sebastian, your only concern at this moment is what language I'm speaking? Really?"

Seb would later claim that the opportunity to mess with his crazy Irishman was just too good to pass up.

"Oui."

There was more staring.

"Que, James, vous ne parler frança-!"

He was kept from completing his question by a particularly hard thrust.

"Tais-toi, Seb," he growled. "Ne soyez pas insolent. Je vous assure, vous ne serez pas comme les conséquences."

Seb had to laugh between his moans.

"Juste jouant autour, l'amour. Et mettre sur, sil vous plaît."

A calculating look, then: "Bien, avoir votre maniére."

At this point the pace became punishing, Jim driving into Seb, over and over again. But it wasn't quite enough, especially since Jim seemed to be purposely avoiding Seb's dick.

"Smettere di cazzo in giro e mi tocca, è figlio di puttana."

"Guardarlo, tesoro," Jim countered, warning clear in his voice. 

"Vaffanculo-" Seb gasped at a sudden sharp pain near his collarbone. "Shit! Did you just bite me, you bastard?"

Jim's grin was manic, and Seb could see the blood on his teeth as he challenged, "And what if I did?"

He hissed at him as he dragged the little psycho up for a kiss, tasting copper, then groaned in relief as a hand finally snaked down and started stroking his cock.

"Are you enjoying this, Sebby?" his partner breathed in his ear. "So filthy, Tiger, all laid out and desperate for my cock. Would you like to come, then? Come on, Sebby."

Well, he was already close, and with the added stimulation and that damned Irish brogue, he didn't last that much longer. But then, neither did Jim after that.

After a few blissful moments, Seb came to himself enough to take stock: there was come cooling on his stomach, his ass hurt, and he could feel blood sliding sluggishly down his chest from where Jim had bit him. In other words: pretty fucking good sex.

He stretched a bit, relishing the burn in his muscles.

"Fuck me, but that was fun."

Jim, who had pulled out and disposed of the condom, lay back down and leered. 

"I believe I just did, and yes, you certainly did seem to enjoy it."

Seb swatted at him half-heartedly and got up to clean up a bit. Returning to bed, he was pleasantly surprised when his evil genius immediately snuggled up to him. (Seb really had to stop assuming anything when it came to James Moriarty).

Who knew the world's only consulting criminal was a cuddler?

"Stay here tonight, Sebastian," Jim commanded.

Seb ran a hand across his Irishman's back, becoming more worried as he realized exactly how thin his bird really was, but not wanting to scare him off. 

"'Course, Jimmy love. 'Course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ifreann na fola- bloody hell  
> Dúirt mé, ifreann fuílteacha- I said, bloody hell  
> Tais-toi- shut up  
> Ne soyez pas insolent. Je boys assure, vous ne serez pas comme les conséquences- Don't be so insolent. I assure you, you will not like the consequences  
> Juste jouant autour, l'amour. Et mettre sur, sil vous plaît- Just playing around, love. And bring it on, please.  
> Bien, avoir votre maniére- Fine, have it your way.  
> Smettere di cazzo in giro e mi tocca, è figlio di puttana- Stop fucking around and touch me, you son of a whore  
> Guardarlo, tesoro- careful, darling  
> Vaffanculo- fuck you
> 
>  
> 
> *waggles eyebrows suggestively*  
> (I really am sorry)   
> I wrote this forever ago, and translations are courtesy of my AP French friend and Italian friend (and Google translate)  
> Let me know what y'all think! Kudos and comments really motivated me, which is something I need! And thanks to Cyn for forcing me to type this.

**Author's Note:**

> So....that was chapter one! Thanks for reading! What did you think? 
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day guys, so help a fellow fan out! =P. 
> 
> This will be updated probably this weekend, so check it out. Oh, and I don't own anything but my own strange brain. If I did, the show would look a whole lot different in terms of relationships....


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